Writing Prompt: The Witching Hour

In keeping with our spooky Halloween theme, I’ve been thinking of different horror films and stories I seen/read throughout the years.

There is really a long list of things that can frighten us and exploring fear can be interesting. I’m not particularly afraid of many things, my fears are generally rational, but there have been times when I have been slightly freaked out. For instance, there was a stormy night a few weeks ago when the house was shaking in the wind and the rain was beating against the windows and the walls of the conservatory. The house was locked, I was all alone except for the cat (she is solid black) and I had given up on TV as it was late on a school night and I knew if I wanted to have a productive day, I would have to sleep eventually.

As I lay there with the duvet tucked under my chin, the rain rapped against the window and I could hear noises coming from the small hatch that led to the loft from across the room. I turned to my side and seeing the clock on my night table flick it’s digital light to midnight, the door flew open. I leaped up in my bed and stared at the opening. The cat jumped onto the bed and arching her back, hissed at the blackness.

I sat perfectly still, trying to adjust my eyes to the black of the room and attempted to make out shapes around me. Every sound in the house was amplified against the storm and for a moment, I was five again, all arms and legs tucked in around me, not dangling in any direction off the bed.

At last, my rational, grown up mind took over and remembering my mobile rested under the pillow beside me, I reached for it and clicked on the light to illuminate the room. There, across the other side of the hatch door was nothing but luggage, skies, a set of unused weights and a rolled up tent. I got up and upon closing the hatch, secured it with a laundry basket propped against it. When I was at last calm and back in my cosy bed, I tutted myself for my silliness and went back to sleep. As I drifted off, I distinctly heard a “tap tap tap” against the hatch. My eyes flew open and after listening and waiting for a moment, decided that sometimes it’s best not to explore the house past midnight.

Writing Prompt: Write a story about someone alone in the house. Use the following props:

1. Mirrors

2. Attic Door

3. Kitchen Knife

4. Weather (you pick)

5. Voices (TV, Radio, Telephone, Answering Machine, other)

Writing Prompt: Under the Bed

In the spirit of Halloween, I’ve decided to spend the next few days writing prompts around the subject of fear/monsters/ghosties, and the like.

For this one, try to remember what it was like when you were a child. There is that fear that most of us have wen we’re small, that something is under the bed, waiting for an arm or a foot to dangle over the edge.

Try writing a short piece about one of the following:

1. Something under the bed

2. Hiding under the bed

3. An object rolling under the bed

I had this though as I started writing this. What if there was a door directly under a child’s bed? Where does it lead? How is it discovered? What happens to the person that steps through the door? Does it open both ways? Keep it dark.

Have fun!

Writing Prompt: Laid up

I haven’t been ill in nearly a year. I also haven’t written with any sort of consistency in nearly that time. So, here I am, stuck on the sofa with my laptop and at last, I feel like writing.

Sometimes it takes a tummy bug and losing half a stone in five days to make you focus. Over the past year, I’ve been fighting to gain some stability in my life, where there has rarely been any. Family, work, money, home life. These are the things that trouble most people and I’ve had a fair share to deal with. At long last, much of these elements are aligned and all is well. This makes me nervous. It’s as though there’s a tsunami lurking at the far end of the ocean, building up and waiting for me to put up my beach umbrella before it strikes.

I spend this morning wondering why I haven’t written and I’ve decided that it’s not because I didn’t have anything to say, but because I had a little too much. Fear can be a terrible contributor to silence. It only takes one moment of bravery to break through, so armed with my tea and paracetamol, I’m ready to go back to writing.

For now, I’ll start slowly with a writing prompt. Take one of the following subject and write a diary entry about how you feel about it:

The Future

Good luck. See you soon.

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